


Broken obsession, morbid desire

by jayfray18



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Dark, M/M, Non Consensual, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayfray18/pseuds/jayfray18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** Dark fic, non-con, torture, character death  


 **PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

  
  
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_**Broken obsession, morbid desire**_

 _ **  
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**Prologue**

 _I'm losing him_ Sam thought bleakly, watching Dean try to explain the differences between a bacon double cheeseburger and a tofu salad to the angel Castiel. The emphatic hand gestures and the almost shy glances, the bright gleam of passion flaring in Dean's eyes, passion that had only ever burnt as bright for Sam. Seeing how Dean came to life with Castiel in a way he no longer did around Sam, especially after his stay in Hell, had caused sparks of jealousy to burst behind Sam's eyes. But he'd pushed them away. He only ever wanted Dean to be happy. And if that was not with him, so be it Sam decided.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

It hadn't surprised Sam the first time Dean rolled over in bed and mumbled, _“not tonight Sammy, 'm too tired.”_ Just as it hadn't surprised him when Dean had sat him down and explained that they needed to end what ever it was they had between them; that Dean was in love with somebody else. And it hadn't surprised Sam when Dean said quietly one night to not wait up for him, that he didn't know when he'd be back. Dean staring at Castiel as if the world revolved around the angel.

It hadn't surprised Sam; but it had hurt him. A deep, festering hurt that had grown, day by day until it had consumed Sam, body and soul.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  
**Part 1**

Sam watched from the shadows. Jaw clenching at the way _they_ talked quietly, heads and bodies angled towards each other as the lovers walked across the almost deserted parking lot, arms brushing as they moved and he welcomed the emotions surging through him. Anger and jealousy clouded his vision. _**He's MINE!**_ He wanted to scream at the filthy _angel_ as he saw Castiel's finger stroke across the back of Dean's hand, desperately wanting to grind Castiel into dust.

Pushing away from the wall Sam strode towards the couple. Dean looked up at the sound of Sam approaching, shoulders tensing as he took in the look on Sam's face, the rage and possessiveness there.

“You should go, Cas” Dean said quietly to his lover, not wanting to test Sam's limits tonight. Sam was really starting to frighten his brother, and Dean didn't scare easily. Castiel stared at Dean before turning to look at Sam. Closing his eyes briefly, he nodded his head once. “Dean,” he started, but stopped as Sam stepped behind Dean, wrapping an arm around his chest, bringing the older man up against him. He placed his other hand possessively over his brother's stomach. Sam smirked as he watched Castiel's eye follow the movement of a finger as it dipped below Dean's waistband to caress the skin there, almost daring the angel to say something.

Dean pulled out of Sam's hold, “I'll be in in a minute” he said, voice strained. The pressure of the last few months, hell who was he kidding, of the last few years, was starting to get to him. He watched warily as Sam slammed into their room and sat on the bed nearest to them, leaving the door open so he could watch the men in the parking lot.

Castiel stared at Dean, the worry clear in his blue eyes. “I do not like leaving you with him Dean” he said, taking Dean's face in his hands to kiss him softly, “Dean!” Sam barked from the motel room forcing the lovers reluctantly apart. “I'll be ok, he won't hurt me” Dean assured the angel quietly as he backed away. Green eyes met blue and shared a message of love as Sam reached out to pull Dean inside, slamming the door on Castiel.

Castiel stood in the parking lot feeling lost and helpless. Feelings he was not accustomed to, had never felt before. One last look at the closed door and Castiel turned away, not sure what to do, but an inkling of an idea gradually forming.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Inside the motel room Dean turned on Sam, “What the hell do you think you're doing Sam?” he demanded, “I'm not 14! You do NOT need to make sure my prom date has gotten too fresh with me man.” Dean paced around the small space trying to bring his anger under control, not wanting to provoke Sam. It was like prodding a wounded lion with a sharp pointed stick. “I don't like that........that _angel_ touching you” Sam spat at him, “I can smell him on you, see his _grace_ on you.”

Dean just looked at Sam incredulously. “What the fuck Sam?” he said, “his grace?” Sam advanced on his brother, “Yes Dean. His grace. I can see it clinging to your skin, smell it on you. Do you like it when he fucks you Dean, does he make you scream the way I do?” Sam taunted, “Does he bend you over and slam in hard? Or does he take his time, make you beg for it like the cock hungry slut you are?”

Sam was standing so close now Dean could smell his unique odour. It used to arouse him, but now it just repulsed him. Bringing his hands up to push Sam out of the way, Dean found himself laying on his front on one of the beds, arms pulled tight behind him. Struggling to get free of the hold Sam had on him, Dean cursed and swore at his brother, desperately fighting to get his knees up under himself so he could push Sam away, all the time wondering where the hell the sweet little baby he had helped to raise had gone.

Sam's height and weight advantage was too great for Dean, even as strong as the older brother was, he was no match for Sam's new found strength. “Hold still” Sam snarled in Dean's ear after Dean had tried to buck him off again, and he moved to wrap one large hand around both of Dean's wrists.

“I hope you let Cas fuck you big brother,” Sam whispered as he unsnapped Dean's jeans, “because I'm not wasting my time prepping you.” Dean stilled at Sam's words and actions _This isn't happening_ he thought desperately, _Sammy wouldn't do this,_ resolutely choosing to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that said this wasn't Sammy, hadn't been Sammy for along time. Not since Dean had made the trade, and he was starting to realize that Azazel had been right. That what came back to life that day hadn't been purely Sam.

Fighting even more now, Dean tried to buck Sam off, twisting and jerking on the bed. “Hold still” Sam bit out as he unbuckled his belt and used it to tie Dean up. Both hands free, Sam rolled Dean over and stripped his jeans and boxers off. Dean kicked out as Sam bent down, knocking his brother over. Sam growled as Dean tried to get off the bed and fell on top of him, crushing the smaller man. Leaning away from his brother, Sam casually backhanded him across the face. “I told you to stay still” he said, and Dean stared horrified at his brother as the hazel eyes he used to drown in flashed yellow.

Dean lay on the bed panting, the taste of blood from his split lip increasing his nausea. The fight gone from him now he knew exactly what Sam had become. He watched helplessly as Sam took a condom out of his wallet and pushed his own jeans off. “I don't want to catch anything from that angel” Sam spat out as he rolled the condom on, smirking at Dean as he crawled between the obscenely spread legs of his brother and grabbed Dean by the hips, lining his cock up with Dean's hole. Ignoring Dean's pleading and cries to not do this, Sam licked a strip up Dean's neck.

“You're mine” he ground out as he slammed into Dean's unwilling body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?

**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

Castiel waited patiently, staring out across the dark roof tops of the city below. The wind whipping his tie around as a subtle shift in the air announced her arrival.

“Before you fell, how did you know you were doing the right thing? That it was the correct choice?” he asked, not turning round. Anna moved in front of Castiel, forcing him to look at her. “Why would you want to do this Castiel?” she asked, ignoring the question

“He needs me.” Castiel said simply, “he needs me.”

“But he has you now. You protect him Castiel, he's your charge!”Anna said, not understanding why Castiel would take this step, when he already watched over Dean, and could protect his charge so much more as an angel than he ever could as a mortal, unless.... “You're being recalled” Anna stated. At Castiel's abrupt nod she sighed. _Why did they always have to interfere?_ Anna thought, knowing that the move would be because of the feelings between man and angel.

“Sam, he worries me.” Castiel said quietly into the night. “There is a darkness inside of him that Dean is blind to. The love Dean has for his brother blinkers him to everything else. I need to be there, to make sure Dean is safe.”

“You have to be sure Castiel. You will feel in ways you can't even imagine, everything will be so intense compared to now; joy and pain, love, even the simplest of touches.” Anna paused, still holding Castiel's gaze, “and you will need to protect your grace Castiel. Whoever holds it will be able to control you, your your actions. You must be prepared to protect it with your mortal soul Castiel, and you WILL be mortal,” Anna finished, needing Castiel to understand.

Castiel never broke eye contact “He needs me” he said again.

“You'll keep this form?” Anna asked, knowing that Castiel wouldn't have thought of that. Castiel looked surprised, and then down at the body he inhabited, knowing that any change in his usual appearance would be an adjustment that Dean would find hard to accept. “I-it-I thought, you came back in the same human form.” Castiel said, slightly puzzled.

“I pulled some strings” Anna replied smiling slightly, “Dean will not like any changes Cas.” she stated. Seeing the angel struggling to find an answer Anna took pity on him. “I'll talk to your host, Jimmy?” At Castiel's nod Anna continued, “do you think he'll agree to this? It's more than was asked of him, at the beginning.” Castiel looked down, not sure what to say. “I'll talk to him Cas, sort things out,” Anna reassured him.

Taking a deep breath Anna took his hands in hers. Squeezing lightly she turned and looked over the roof tops. “It will hurt” she said. Castiel just carried on looking at the night skyline.  
“When do you want to do this” Anna asked, realizing that she wouldn't be able to change Castiel's mind.

“Now.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bobby looked through the open doorway, still rattled by Dean's unexpected appearance earlier on. And nothing Dean had done after arriving had improved his feeling. Dean hadn't said anything, just sat staring into space, never letting go of the Colt the whole time.

“Sam, you need to get here. Something's wrong with Dean. He's not―he just―look boy just get here quick.” Closing his phone Bobby walked from the kitchen, grabbing the whiskey as he went, and sat down opposite Dean.

“What's going on son?” he asked. Bobby had never been any good at the touchy feely emotional crap, he never knew what to say, or do. But he was worried about Dean. And for Dean to turn up here, unannounced, without Sam or that angel in tow, that was down right weird.

Sighing when he didn't get an answer, Bobby poured them a shot of whiskey each. If Dean wasn't going to talk, the least Bobby could do was get him drunk enough to forget whatever it was that had him spooked like this.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anna watched Castiel closely. Jimmy had agreed to the continued use of his body by the angel after he fell. As Jimmy had managed to say through the pain of the stab wounds he had received back in the warehouse; he was dying. Nothing could be done to save him. Amelia and Claire would be protected, Anna had reassured Jimmy as the blood continued to pour from his wounds. Nodding his agreement, Jimmy waited as Castiel returned to his host's body.

“Are you sure?” she asked one last time. Castiel nodded. “I will fall-land-near Dean?” he queried. Anna smiled slightly at this, “Yes. I don't understand how it works, but I landed near a family that needed me. And Dean needs you.” Castiel simply nodded again, taking Anna at her word.

Opening his mouth to say thank you, Castiel felt a hand at his back, and then he was falling.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sounds of whimpers and cries woke Bobby before dawn, a couple of hours after Dean had passed out drunk. His body aching from sleeping in a chair too long, Bobby stood and moved over to the sofa, intent on waking the restless young man from his night terrors. Bobby had had enough of his own over the years to know the signs in somebody else. Hand poised over Dean's shoulder, he was just about to shake the slumbering man awake when Bobby managed to make out what Dean was saying.

What he heard chilled him to the very core. Stumbling back to his chair Bobby sat down heavily, shaking hand covering his mouth. Dean was pleading, desperately trying to make someone let him go, to end the pain. He started to twist and jerk on the sofa, as though trying to get away from something―somebody―and Bobby wanted to throw up at the desperate tone to Dean's voice as he called out Sam's name.

Because Dean wasn't crying out for Sam to help him, to rescue him. Dean was pleading, begging that his brother stop.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam listened to his voice mail and felt a smirk slowly spreading across his face. He hadn't been surprised to find his brother gone yesterday morning, would have been more surprised if Dean had still been there, and the message Bobby had left whilst he was in the shower meant he know knew exactly where to find him. Dean needed to learn who he belonged to Sam thought. And Sam had some very _interesting_ ideas on how to make sure Dean learnt his lesson.

Picking up his bag he looked over at the bed one last time, Dean's blood staining the sheets made him smile even more as he remembered his brother begging and pleading that Sam stop. He felt himself start to harden at the memory. Willing his erection away, Sam left the motel room and made his way through the town to the small shopping mall near the motel. He needed a car, fast, if he was going to get to the salvage yard before Dean found out he was on his way and moved off again.

Stowing his gear in the nondescript car he had 'borrowed' Sam reached under the steering wheel to hot wire it, pleased with himself when it started first time, checking the fuel gauge he was even happier to discover he had a full tank to play with. Sam grinned and put the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot and heading north towards the interstate and Dean.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The pain was excruciating. Every fibre of his being felt as though it was being ripped from his body. Castiel knew he was screaming but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his body as it fell through the atmosphere, falling towards earth and Dean.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean woke with a thick head, and the sudden urge to throw up. He lay still, swallowing the bile back down and breathing deeply through his nose. The urge slowly passed, but the headache gradually became a heavy pounding ache. He moved cautiously until he could open his eyes and look around him, blinking slowly to clear his eyes.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, immediately regretting it when the pounding became a full crescendo as he was assaulted by light and sound. Covering his eyes with the back of his arm Dean groaned.

“Here,” Bobby said as he handed Dean some tablets and coffee. Dean gratefully took the proffered items with a groan and eased himself up to swallow the tablets. “Why are we in the panic room?” Dean managed to croak out as he fell back on the bed, arm back over his eyes. The silence from Bobby was deafening. Lifting the arm from over his eyes he regarded the awkward looking man in the doorway. “Bobby?” Dean pressed.

Looking at the devils trap on the panic room floor Bobby finally mumbled “I called Sam.” Dean sat up, headache and nausea forgotten as he started to clamber off the bed, desperately looking for his boots and “The Colt!” he cried, “Bobby, where's the Colt? I need the goddamn Colt!” Bobby moved forwards, hands out in a placating gesture.

“Calm down boy. Calm down. The Colt's under the pillow” Bobby managed to say, watching as the terrified man threw the pillow on the floor and cradled the Colt close like a baby. “Dean, you need to talk to me, tell me what's happened.” Bobby waited for the younger hunter to start talking, not surprised when he stayed quiet.

Sighing deeply, Bobby pulled a chair up and sat in front of Dean, watching as he ran his fingers over the weapon and checked the bullets in the barrel. “How about I tell you what I thinks going on.” Bobby spoke quietly, talking to the frightened child in Dean.

“I think that you and Sam got in a fight, probably about that angel of yours, again,” Bobby started, “and things got― _rough_ ―and you left. Sammy don't know where you are, could probably have guessed mind you, but like an idjit I called him 'cause I didn't want him worrying about you.” Taking a breath Bobby carried on. “And Sam, Sam's done something unforgivable to you, and the only way you feel safe is with that gun,” Bobby gestured at the Colt, “and in this here demon proof room, if my guess is right. Which I hope to God it isn't. How'm I doing so far?”

Dean just carried on running his fingers over the markings on the Colt. “Dean” Bobby said as he reached out to lay a hand on the younger man's knee.

Dean looked up, all the despair he felt visible in his green eyes. A single tear slowly traced its way down his face and Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to tell Bobby what he'd seen. What Sam had done. His silence more telling than anything he could ever have said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

His grace ripped from his body on impact, and knocked Castiel out cold. Coming to a while later, the feel of cold rain on his face, Castiel opened his eyes and slowly sat up. He felt different. Empty. The silence in his head made noticeable by the sounds of traffic passing the field on the nearby road. Standing on shaky legs, Castiel started looking around, trying to find his grace, hampered by the fact he didn't know what he was looking for and his lack of coordination.

Remembering suddenly, how Anna's grace had caused the oak tree to grow, the fallen angel got onto his hands and knees, looking over the area he had landed on for new shoots. His hand moving over the soil felt warm on one pass, and Castiel could feel the pulse of his grace as it created new life and growth under the ground. Holding out his hand as Anna had shown him to do, Castiel fumbled as he tried to remove the lid from the vial, dropping it twice before he succeeded, and then watched astounded as the soil shifted and his grace emerged in a thin stream and entered the vial. Replacing the lid when it was all safely inside, he attached the vial to the chain Anna had given him and stood again.

Making his way to the road Castiel stumbled over the uneven ground, his usual fluidity gone with his grace. He needed to find Dean and the road would start him on his journey.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam turned the wipers on as the downpour got heavier the closer he got to the salvage yard, almost as if the heavens knew Sam's plans, and were weeping. He could almost smell Dean, hear his cries, and Sam groaned aloud in frustration. He could stop, he knew, and fuck any willing, or unwilling, body. But he wanted Dean. _Soon,_ he told himself as the car ate up the miles, _soon he'll be mine again._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Castiel thanked the truck driver as he stopped at the end of the lane leading to the salvage yard. The man had taken pity on the bedraggled creature stumbling along the roadside about 30 miles back and offered Castiel a lift. As the man pointed out, he was passing this way and he would welcome the company for a spell.

Passing under the sign over the entrance to the yard, Castiel looked around drinking in his surroundings. The last time he was here, he had gone straight to the panic room, so this was all a revelation to him. Walking up to the front door, he raised his hand and knocked loudly, the pain in his knuckles shocking him. It was going to take a while to get used to actually _feeling_ things he realized. Glancing over the piles of wrecked cars everywhere Castiel turned as he heard the door open, to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Christo” Bobby said as Castiel blinked at him. Breathing deeply, Bobby stood back as he let the angel in. “Not used to your lot knocking” Bobby said. Castiel stood in the front hall, unsure what to do. Bobby looked the angel over. There was something different about him, Bobby thought, unable to put his finger on exactly what.

“You coming in?” Bobby asked as he walked thorough to the kitchen. Stopping at the bureau he filled a silver beaker with water and passed it over, watching carefully as his guest took a sip of the holy water. The tension left Bobby as nothing happened, and he sat down at the table and waited for Castiel to speak. “Have you seen Dean Winchester?” Castiel asked after a moments silence. Bobby just looked at the angel and said nothing, waiting.

Castiel looked at the older man, head tilted to one side. “Do you know where he is?” Castiel asked again, starting to sound faintly desperate as Bobby failed to answer. “Why d'you want to know?” Bobby replied. Castiel stared at the man, trying to find words to explain what he had done, what he had sacrificed for Dean. He settled for the answer he had given Anna what felt like years but was only hours ago.

“Because he needs me” Castiel stated simply.

Bobby stared at Castiel when he cottoned on to the difference in the angel. “You fell” he said as Castiel stood in the middle of Bobby's kitchen. Looking Bobby in the eye he just nodded. Bobby thought quietly for a while, before coming to a decision. Pushing the chair back, Bobby stood and moved towards the fallen angel. “This way” Bobby said as he led Castiel down the stairs to the panic room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam pulled into Bobby's place and got out of the stolen car. Walking around the piles of broken vehicles he smiled to himself as he came across the impala, running his fingers across the glossy black paint. Grinning, he knew that Dean was still here. That no matter what happened, Dean wouldn't leave his baby behind. Sauntering towards the house Sam laughed out loud as he felt the blood thrumming through his veins in anticipation of what was to come, his eyes flashing yellow as he mounted the steps and pushed the door open.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean tensed as he heard the steps on the stairs and moved to position himself against the wall directly opposite the door, Colt trained on the closed portal. His hands shook imperceptibly as he stared at the door, the footsteps echoing loudly in the corridor as they came ever closer. Fear that Sam had caught up with him flooded his body, and Dean could feel his heart pounding a fast staccato rhythm in his chest. The handle made a grating sound as it was turned, and the door slowly swung open.

Dean's blood froze in his veins as a familiar voice called his name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?

**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

>

“Dean, it's me” Bobby called out as he opened the door wide and waited for Dean to acknowledge him. Dean was almost panting with fear, waiting until Bobby had entered the room before slumping down and lowering his gun, relief racing through him with the knowledge that nothing evil could enter the panic room. “You have a visitor” Bobby said as he moved out of the way to let Castiel step over the threshold.

Dean just gaped as his angel walked towards him. “Cas” he said as he stood up straight and raised a shaking hand to slowly cup Castiel's cheek, the feel of the stubble there rasping against his palm. Castiel leant into the touch, drinking in the new sensations; the texture of Dean's fingers as they grazed over his cheek, the strength of this man seeping into him through that simple touch. Dean wrapped his arms around his lover, burying his face in Castiel's neck. Castiel held Dean close, letting him take the comfort he so desperately needed.

Pulling back to look into the blue eyes he loved so much, Dean smiled tremulously. Their lips touched gently, a reaffirmation of their love. Moving over to the cot, they sat in silence, arms wrapped around each other, just holding on tight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Bobby stepped out of the room, not wanting to intrude, or witness, the reunion. Looking back in through the closing door, Bobby paused as he watched the two men move into a kiss. Pushing the door to, he walked up the stairs to the kitchen, mind racing quickly to his weapons cache when he saw the man, no _demon_ sitting at his table.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The light through the vent above them gradually changed, the sky growing darker as the lovers started to stir, muscles protesting their inaction as they moved apart. Dean stretched as he stood and walked around the panic room, the Colt tucked safely in his waistband as he opened a bottle of water Bobby had stored amongst the other provisions. “Why?” he asked over his shoulder. Castiel stilled and just stared at Dean as he drank from the bottle. “Why did you fall?” Dean asked again, Castiel moved to reach Dean, but the man just stepped away towards the other side of the room. “Just tell me” Dean said, shoulders hunching over as though to protect himself from the blows about to fall.

“How did you know?” Castiel asked as he watched his lover carefully. “I know you” Dean replied quietly, “I could see the difference as soon as you walked through the door.” Castiel tried to pull Dean's tense body into his arms, needing the contact with the hunter, only to be rebuffed. Dean sat on the chair drawing the Colt from his waistband and holding it loosely in his lap, waiting for Castiel to start.

Drawing a deep breath Castiel sat on the edge of the cot and looked at Dean as he spoke, “I was to be recalled, reassigned with another charge. Zachariah found out about us and decreed it was unacceptable for an angel to fornicate with a human. That the love an angel has for it's charge should be pure, unsullied in any way. That an angel's grace would be tainted by a human's love.” Dean let out a snort at that.

“Zachariah could not understand that whilst you are my charge and I watch over and protect you, that I need to be near you as well. I need to be able to touch you, hold you, love you.” Castiel's voice had dropped to barely a whisper as he spoke, and Dean strained to hear the last few words, the noise of the fan turning over head nearly drowning out Castiel's usually strong voice.

“Another angel was to be your guardian, but I could not leave you in the care of another. I would not trust them with your life. I could not be taken away from you. I need you Dean, just as you need me.” Castiel paused, his voice stronger again as he knelt on the floor in front of Dean, taking the hand not cradling the Colt between both of his, marveling at the feel of the callouses on Dean's palm rubbing against his own hand.

“I can take care of myself man,” Dean bit out as he tried to pull away. “I've been doing it since I was four!” he exclaimed tugging even harder on his hand. Castiel just held on tighter, determined not to let go. “I know Dean, but you don't have to do this on your own, not any more. Let me be here for you, as you will be here for me”

Eyes still locked with Dean's, Castiel continued cautiously, knowing how Dean reacted to any criticism of his brother, “And I could not leave you alone with Sam. He is not the man you think him to be Dean.”

Fear flashed across Dean's face before he looked down at the weapon in his lap, unable to let the man before him see the pain and degradation Sam had inflicted on his body and soul. “I know Castiel, believe me I know _exactly_ what Sam has become” Dean said, voice laced with bitterness towards his brother. “What happened?” Castiel asked. Dean shook is head as he raised it and stared at Castiel. “Later Cas, I'll tell you later. I promise” he said, needing a few more minutes before he could bring himself to tell anybody the things Sam had done to him, and precisely what his baby brother had turned into.

Castiel sat back on his heels wanting, no _needing_ to take Dean's obvious pain as his own, but not knowing how. Hoping to take Dean's mind off the subject of Sam, Castiel reached under his shirt to pull out the vial containing his grace. Placing the chain over Dean's neck he moved the vial so that it was under the t-shirt Dean wore, next to his heart. “You are the only person I would ever trust with my grace” the fallen angel said as he locked eyes with his lover. “Only you, Dean” he said as he moved forwards to kiss Dean's parted lips.

Dean pulled back after a few seconds, his hand closing around the precious vial almost reverentially. “Cas, I can't take this.” Dean started, eyes swimming with tears as he held on tight to the vial, “You need somebody stronger, somebody who can protect this. I'm not that man” Dean paused, his voice so broken as he stared off into the distance, “not any more.”

Castiel pulled Dean into his arms, desperately needing to know what had caused his once strong lover to doubt himself in this way. After Dean's mini-breakdown in the hospital, brought on after Uriel forced him into torturing Alistair, Castiel had worked on building Dean's self-belief back up. And it had mostly worked. Castiel accepted that Dean was no longer the self-confident, brash young man he had watched over as he grew up. A trip to Hell and the consequences thereof would change even the strongest of people. But the man before him now was broken in ways that Alistair and 40 years in Hell could only have dreamed of achieving.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey Bobby” Sam said, as though there was nothing wrong. “Christo” Bobby said, stepping back as Sam's eyes changed color, flashing in the dim light of the kitchen. Guessing was one thing, but actually seeing it was another. Bobby felt the dread that had been slowly simmering inside of him since Dean had arrived, reach its peak as he watched the eyes of the young man he thought of as a second son turn yellow. Bobby started to edge towards the dining room and his stash of weapons. “Now Bobby, don't make me hurt you” Sam taunted as he stopped the older hunter in his tracks by pushing him against the wall with a flick of his wrist, knowing exactly where Bobby was headed and why.

Bobby struggled against the hold Sam had on him as he tried to break free. The more he struggled, the more Sam tightened his grip. Bobby started gasping, trying to draw a breath as Sam squeezed Bobby's windpipe, all without moving from his place at the kitchen table. “Now, you're going to help me Bobby. You're going to get Dean out of the panic room and up here, before that winged bastard gets to him, understand?” Sam said contemptuously as the older man started to turn blue around the lips.

“Understand?” Sam growled as he released his grip slightly, letting Bobby start breathing again. Bobby panted, drawing in lungful after lungful of precious air. “I asked a question” Sam snarled as Bobby looked at him and nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What the hell happened to you boy?” Bobby asked, voice rasping in his battered throat.

Sam just smiled, eyes flashing yellow the whole time; he stood up as he started talking. “See the thing is Bobby, Azazel was right. What's dead should stay dead.” he said as he walked around the kitchen and dining room, rifling through books and papers as he went. “When Dean made the deal with Lilith and bought me back, the demon blood already in me somehow grew, got stronger.” Sam turned back to the older hunter, “and all those demons needed a leader after they came pouring out of the devil's gate. Somebody they'd be too frightened of not to follow.”

Sam moved a chair in front of Bobby and straddled it, slowly running a finger down the front of Bobby's shirt as he sat down, relishing the scream that was ripped from his friend's throat at the touch. “Now, add in the blood I've been getting from Ruby, and I'm ready to be that leader. To take what I want. And not worry about the consequences. _I am destined to be that leader.”_ Looking at the beads of sweat as they ran down Bobby's neck, Sam grinned, “and it's so good not having to worry about things. Not being bound by the human conscience. Just doing what feels good. And this, this feels _good.”_

Bobby's head hung down low as he drew in shuddering breaths, the pain in his chest feeling like red hot blades slicing into his skin. He couldn't believe what was happening, what he was hearing. That Sam, little Sammy Winchester, had become this evil monster.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?

**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

A short time later, Castiel tried to carefully shake Dean awake, as his lover twisted and moaned in his arms. The noises the young man was making cut Castiel to his very core. He had heard them before, he knew, when he had fought his way through Hell and pulled Dean from perdition, and he would give anything to pull Dean from this nightmare now.

 _It always started the same way; he was in hell, stretched out on the rack, surrounded by hordes of demons waiting their turn to work on him._

 _The brand, Alistair's brand, on his back throbbed, the smell of the burnt flesh nauseating._

 _The skin was hanging off his legs in ribbons. A demon had been peeling him like an onion for what felt like forever, one layer of skin at a time._

 _Dean opened his mouth and screamed, head thrown back, but no noise came out. His throat raw and bleeding from the all the sounds and screams Alistair had pulled from him. The feel of the knife being twisted in his stomach was excruciating. He could feel the blood flooding his throat as he started to choke._

 _“Just think how much fun we're going to have together Dean”, the demon said casually, picking up a serrated knife and running it down the side of Dean's face, bending to lick at the thin line of blood left in it's wake, “and we get to do this all over again tomorrow.”_

 _Except this time when Dean looked at the demon wielding the knife, it wasn't Alistair he saw staring at him, enjoying the pain and torment Dean was going through._

 _It was Sam._

Jerking awake to the sound of Castiel falling off the cot, Dean lay breathing harshly as he tried to get his bearings and bring his heart rate down to something remotely normal. Castiel knelt up next to the cot and looked down; drinking in the beauty of Dean, sublime even when he was in obvious distress. Brushing his hand down Dean's cheek Castiel asked gently, “What did you dream about?”, not wanting to give Dean any cause to pull away. Even so, Dean tensed up, unwilling to talk about his nightmares; neither the dreams at night nor the one his life had become, but he knew that he owed it Castiel to do so. The angel had fallen for him … literally. The least Dean could do was say a few words; even though it would feel as if he were ripping his very soul from his body.

Dean sat up and leant against the wall of the panic room, the lead feeling oddly comforting. He rolled his shoulders; the ghost pain of the hooks, piercing sinew and bone as the demons stretched him out on the rack, remained after he woke, allowing the horror of his nightmare to linger. Bringing his knees up to his chest, Dean wrapped his arms around his legs, almost as if he were trying disappear and hide away from everything. Unable to look at Castiel and have the disgust and loathing, that he knew he would soon see in those gorgeous blue eyes, directed at him, the hunter started to talk.

“I need you to understand what it was like for me growing up. It was only ever me and Sam and Dad – and he was gone more than he was ever around. Once I hit ten, Dad decided I could look after Sam on my own. We were always moving, staying in crappy motels, and sometimes crappier apartments, depending on the job. We never stayed in one place for long, I think 3 months was the longest I ever went to one school. Making friends was almost impossible. In the end it was always just me and Sam. So selling my soul for him was easy, I couldn't do anything else. He's my baby brother, I had to look after him.” Dean paused drawing in a ragged breath before continuing, needing to make Castiel understand the level of love and devotion he had always had for his baby brother. “I couldn't have lived without him.”

“When it really hit, that I only had 12 months to live, I tried to screw and drink my way across the country, but Sam made me stop. Said it was killing him to see me do that to myself, and if I needed to have the human contact and sexual release, his words not mine, I could have that with him. So uh ... he and me ... we uh ... we started to ... ya know.” Dean looked up, eyes pleading that Castiel understand. “The thing I had going on ... from before Hell. I broke it off when we ... when you and me started. But it was Sam. It was me and Sam.” he finished quietly. “and I know it's seven shades of wrong Cas, and that I'll end up in Hell, again, but we couldn't stop it. That first time, it was like coming home for both of us.” Dean stopped, unable to carry on.

Castiel moved to sit on the cot next to Dean; to take the hunter's work roughened hand in his, feeling the shiver that ran up Dean's arm as he rubbed a smooth finger across Dean's knuckles. “Dean, when your mother told you that angels were watching you at night, she wasn't just telling you a story to help you sleep at night,” Castiel explained quietly. “I have watched over you your whole life. Nothing you can tell me will make me feel any less for you Dean. Nothing”

Dean just turned and stared at the fallen angel incredulously. “You saw everything?” Dean demanded, trying to pull his hand out of Castiel's tight hold on him. Dean blanched at Castiel's nod. _“Everything?”_ Dean whispered. “The stealing and cheating? The killing? The whoring?” he asked quietly, voice devoid of all emotion on the last admission.

“Dean, you did what you needed to do to survive.” Castiel said just as softly. “How many 15 year olds drop to their knees in back alleys for money Cas?” Dean responded darkly. “Those who never had any help from their father or the people around them. Those who needed to feed their brother. Those who needed to survive,” Castiel stated emphatically. “I don't think any less of you Dean. For the decisions forced on you when you had no other course of action open to you. I never could,” he said as he placed a healing kiss on Dean's immobile lips.

Drawing in a deep breath, Dean took a moment to compose himself before carrying on. “It was different, after you pulled me out of the pit. Me and Sam. I mean we bumped uglies again, but it just wasn't the same. I'd met you.” He looked at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, “and Sam seemed to be fine when I told him we had to stop. That I couldn't sleep with him any more. A bit quiet, but then Sam always goes quiet while his emo-angst is working it's way through his system. When I got back to the motel room, after you and me made love for the first time, I thought he was fine. He said he was fine. But things started to change.” Dean paused to drink from the water bottle Castiel passed to him.

“It wasn't obvious stuff; not at first. A look when you were around; a comment if I mentioned your name. Nothing you could say for definite. I thought it was just me stopping our nighttime activities, making him sulk, you know. Sam was just a bit different, darker.” Dean sighed heavily. “I never realized how dark. Why didn't I see what was happening to him Cas?” Dean asked, looking at his lover wearily. “Last night, after you left, we argued, me and Sam. And he, he attacked me; he raped me.” Dean finished in a rush, needing to say the words quickly or hold them inside forever.

Castiel tensed. Every part of him wanted to hunt Sam down and tear him limb from limb. He swallowed heavily, the strange emotions taking his breath away. Wrapping Dean in his arms, Castiel stroked his lovers' back gently, soothing the upset man. Dean pulled out of the embrace as he looked at Castiel. “That's not the worst of it.” he said, working a finger into the frayed edges of a hole in his jeans. “He's a demon Cas. My baby brother is a yellow eyed demon.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bobby lay in an ungainly heap on the floor, pain radiating off him in waves as he gasped for breath. Each inhalation felt like a red hot poker to his chest. He realized that Sam must have broken at least one of his ribs with the last round of fun and games they were having, as Sam so gleefully called the torture and abuse.

“Come on Bobby,” Sam said easily as Bobby tried to push himself upright to lean against the wall of his dining room. “All you need to do is shout downstairs that you need my slut of a brother up here to help you with something, and all the pain will stop. I promise,” Sam finished, voice mockingly sincere. Bobby snorted, then regretted it as pain lanced thorough his abused ribs. “All demons lie, Sammy-boy, or did you forget that,” Bobby got out through gritted teeth.

Sam threw his head back and laughed out loud at that. “Yeah, Bobby, I guess we do!” laughter plainly evident in his voice. He reached out a hand and flicked his wrist suddenly, Bobby had been trying to keep quiet, not wanting the men downstairs to know what was going on, but he couldn't help screaming out at the vicious wrenching sound his shoulder made as it was pulled from it's socket.

“I can keep doing this all night long old man,” was whispered into Bobby's ear. As Bobby half lay on the floor whimpering as he cradled his left arm against his body, Sam crouched down next to him. He leaned a hand on Bobby's wrecked shoulder, causing the tortured man to sway, as wave after wave of agony rushed outwards from where Sam was so casually squeezing his hand. “All night.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Castiel watched as Dean moved restlessly around the lead walled room, stopping occasionally to check on the salt lines he was walking over and to make sure the Colt hadn't suddenly vanished from his waistband. Castiel wanted, needed to wrap Dean in his arms and take him far away from everything, but he knew it wouldn't help the soul weary hunter. Dean needed to find solace, but Castiel wasn't sure how, or where, to look. He was unaware that he offered some measure of comfort to Dean just by being there; showing the true depth of his feelings by disobeying orders and falling for a human in his charge.

Taking hold of Dean's hand as he made yet another pass around the room, Castiel tugged until Dean reluctantly tumbled down onto the cot. “You need to try and rest Dean.” Castiel said, weariness lacing his words. Dean just shrugged his shoulders, unable to explain away the unease itching away just under his skin. He felt as though they should be moving; getting as far away from the salvage yard as possible, even though he knew the panic room was the safest place for them to be.

Looking Castiel over, Dean noticed the dark rings under the blue eyes. The man looked grey with exhaustion, and Dean realized that Castiel didn't know he was tired. The man had never had to deal with an exhausted human body before. Smiling at Castiel, he ran a hand down Castiel's face, feeling the stubble rub against his palm, feeling the fallen angel lean into the touch as he always did. “Come on dude,” Dean moved around so he was stretched out on the cot, “lay with me.” They shuffled around until they were wrapped around each other, the stress and fear of the last 36 hours finally taking it's toll on both men. Castiel's last coherent thought was a wish for a longer, dreamless sleep for the man in his arms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam stared down at the broken, lifeless body of the hunter at his feet, feeling no remorse at what he had done. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as he thought back on the last couple of hours and Bobby's obstinate refusal to call Dean up from the panic room. Not that it would have stopped Sam from killing him; he just wouldn't have had to go through as much pain before hand. Sam felt a tiny bit of respect for his old friend; because even when he was in absolute agony Bobby hadn't begged or pleaded for mercy. But he had given Sam something before he died. Remembering Bobby's pain ravaged voice as he finally broke had Sam smirking. The raw desperation that Sam stop the torture echoed unspoken in the words Bobby gasped out through swollen, bloodied lips. He eventually reached his limits, and let slip that Castiel had fallen and was downstairs with Dean right now. The jealously that had sparked through Sam nearly consumed him; the anger making the blood thunder through his veins until the sound was almost deafening, causing him to crush Bobby's neck in a fit of rage.

Sam smiled darkly as he picked up the corpse and moved through the house, pushing his way out the front door and into the yard. He made his way around the outside of the house to the ventilation shaft of the panic room. Sam paused and then pulled a knife from his boot, cutting into Bobby's arm from elbow to wrist before throwing the battered body over the opening, making sure the cut arm was hanging down into the shaft, watching as the blood slowly dripped down Bobby's fingers onto the floor below.

Satisfied that Dean and Castiel would get the message, Sam walked back to the car he'd stolen and pulled some things out of the bags stowed in the boot. Pocketing the items, he hurried to the house again, knowing exactly what he needed to finish his plans. He knew it wouldn't take long for Dean to come thundering upstairs, desperately trying to 'save' Bobby. Sam grinned to himself, knowing he would only have wait to taste Dean's pleas and hear his whimpers of pain for a little while longer, the anticipation already arcing under his skin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?

**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

Castiel didn't stir when Dean moved out of their slumbering embrace. Dean felt not quite refreshed, but not as worn down by everything as he had earlier. The lights in the panic room flickered slightly as he glanced around, trying to find what had woken him from his dreamless sleep. Standing, he walked to the pile of provisions Bobby had stored in crates against the wall, and opened some sort of cereal bar he found in the top box. Washing it down with water, desperately wishing it was coffee, he stood still, listening.

The steady drip, drip, drip was easily heard when he stopped crunching the cereal bar. Moving towards the dark puddle on the floor under the ventilation shaft, Dean knelt down, reached out a hand and touched the dark ring of blood. Gazing up at the ventilation shaft, he tried to make out what was up there, but the darkness outside prevented Dean from seeing anything past the overhead light. Grabbing a torch from amongst the boxes of provisions, he switched it on and pointed the beam upwards.

Dean's anguished cry of “Bobby!” startled Castiel awake as he gazed up at the lifeless face of his friend and mentor, the open eyes staring down on Dean's distraught face. The blood continued to fall; the drip, drip echoing around the enclosed space along with Dean's voice. Castiel hurried over to his lover, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder as he looked up.

“He's here.” Dean said, voice full of dread and hatred. “He's here Cas. He killed Bobby, and he's here, waiting for me.” Castiel held on tight as Dean tried to move away towards the door, the angry hunter intent on reaching his brother and making him pay for this act of violence towards their friend. “Dean, wait. This is what he wants. Sam wants you running out there.” Castiel tried to reason, “he wants you angry, not thinking. Following your heart, not your head.” Castiel gently shook Dean by the shoulders. “Think like a hunter Dean, not a man faced with the brutal murder of his friend.”

Dean drew in a ragged breath, his shoulders slumped as he listened to Castiel, knowing him to be right. Casting a seasoned hunter's eye over the stash of demonic hunting devices and weapons in the room, Dean nodded to acknowledge Castiel, and started to plan.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Sam tensed as he heard Dean's pained cry from below. Relaxing his shoulders, he moved into position, a grin slowly spreading across his face as the excitement of the coming fight spread through his body. Sam could almost feel the smaller man against his body and smell the sweat of the older Winchester as he tried to exact his vengeance for Bobby's murder. Licking his lips in anticipation, Sam waited.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean shared one last look with Castiel before opening the lead door and forcing himself to walk calmly up the stairs towards his brother. The adrenaline was surging through his system, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. Dean took deep steadying breaths to force down the urge to run up the stairs and burst into the kitchen, guns blazing back. Hand shaking imperceptibly he pushed the door to the kitchen open and stepped over the threshold.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Castiel placed the bags of provisions and weapons in the trunk of the car. He was grateful Bobby Singer had been a suspicious man in life, and never trusted all his secrets to any living soul, especially those about his panic room and the other exit into the salvage yard. Saying a silent prayer for the fallen hunter, Castiel made his way back towards the house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Sam and Dean stood facing each other in the hallway of Bobby Singer's house; a house they had played and hidden in as children, a house that felt more like home than anywhere ever had or ever would.

Staring into the green eyes that belonged to _him_ , Sam casually flicked his wrist sending Dean crashing into the stair bannister, enjoying the grunt of pain Dean involuntarily let out as his head connected with the wood. Lifting his hand so Dean was suspended, feet dangling 6 inches above the floor, Sam advanced on his brother until he could feel the heat radiating of off Dean's skin. “No guardian angel Dean,” Sam smirked at his brother, “oh wait, he's not an angel any more is he?” he grinned. Dean just stared at Sam, not rising to the bait, trying to breath around the constricting band around his chest.

“Poor Sammy,” Dean panted out, struggling to breathe. “Can't beat his poor, human big brother without his evil powers.” Sam growled at Dean, knowing exactly what his brother was trying to do. “You want to fight Sammy, give me a chance at least,” Dean taunted. Sam just pushed in closer, yellow eyes glowing eerily in the light of the hallway. With one last squeeze to Dean's chest Sam stepped back, eyes changing to the hazel Dean knew so well. “Bring it on” Sam bit out through clenched teeth as the older Winchester landed with a thud. Pulling in a much needed deep breath Dean stood up straight, squaring his shoulders as he looked at his brother.

 _The first punch always hurts the worst,_ Dean thought as swung his fist. Connecting with Sam's jaw, the pain shoot up his arm into his shoulder. Sam wiped the blood from his lips on the back of his hand and flew at Dean. They traded blows, knocking into walls and furniture, neither gaining the upper hand. For all Sam's size and strength, Dean was more agile, so they were evenly matched.

Before long, they were both bloodied and bruised, Dean's knuckles a mess from repeated blows to Sam's face. But they were both still standing, still fighting. Dean cried in pain as Sam landed a blow to his already bruised ribs, his breathing more ragged than before. He could feel his muscles shaking with exertion and knew if he didn't end this soon, Sam would win. Putting everything into one last big hit, he charged into his brother.

They fell to the floor, Sam rolling with the motion to end up on top. Dean twisted and bucked, kicking his legs to get Sam off of him, but to no avail. Sam was too big, too strong. Feeling Dean tiring under him, Sam let his brother wear himself out.

The blow to the head caught him completely by surprise and knocked him out cold. He fell on Dean who grunted in pain at the sudden weight landing on his already abused ribs. “'Bout damn time Cas,” Dean muttered to the fallen angel. Castiel stood over the brothers, bloodied tyre iron in his hand.

Dean pushed the heavy weight of his brother off him, breathing fast from the exertion and rubbed a hand over his face and down around his neck in relief that it was over. His hand paused, suddenly scrabbling round his neck as he realised the chain for the vial containing Castiel's grace was gone. Heaving Sam over, Dean looked on the floor quickly, then up at Castiel when he didn't see it. “Cas-I-your grace, the chain – it must have broken” he said wretchedly. Castiel fell to his knees next to Dean and they started to search the area, desperate to find the vial, but equally desperate to get away from Sam.

Dean frantically searched, pushing broken furniture and debris from the fight aside, hearing Castiel do the same behind him. The glint of silver caught his eye, just as Castiel lifted the chain in his hand, holding it out to Dean, “Here” Castiel said, “don't lose it again, please.” Dean sagged in relief. Taking the chain and vial from Cas, he grinned as he slipped the unbroken chain over his head. “Come on., we need to hit the road before _he_ comes round.” Dean pointed at Sam's unconscious body. “You need to clean up first Dean,” Castiel responded, touching the growing bruises on Dean's face, knowing there would be more hidden under his blood splattered clothes. Dean leant into the touch for a second. “No time, I'll clean up later,” he said as he pulled away and they hurried out the door towards to car.

Dean spared one last glance at his baby as they ran past her, knowing the impala would make them easier to find. He grimaced as he climbed behind the wheel of a sedan at the back of the salvage yard. “You put everything in the trunk, right? The bags and the Colt?” Dean asked, smiling slightly as Castiel nodded. Dean started the engine and as as they stopped at the entrance to the yard, Castiel asked “Left or right?” Dean looked at the angel who fell for him, and smiled softly, leaning over to press a kiss to lightly chapped lips, Dean turned the car right and hit the gas pedal hard, putting as much distance between them and Sam as he could.

“Why didn't you use the Colt on Sam?” Castiel asked as they sped along the deserted road. Dean gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles showed white in the growing light. “He's still my brother” Dean answered, voice wrecked with emotions. “He's still my brother.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves his brother, a soul deep love. But what happens when that love is no longer returned, given to another instead?

**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE WARNINGS. THIS IS NOT A LIGHT FLUFFY LITTLE FIC!**

Dean walked quickly across the parking lot of yet another out of the way motel they were staying in for the night. One hand absent mindedly played with the vial hanging around his neck containing Castiel's grace whilst the other was being scorched by the food bags from the local diner. He'd been gone a bit longer than anticipated, but the queue had been out of the door. Turning the handle and pushing the motel room door open Dean froze, food spilling around his ankles from bags dropped by numb fingers.

Castiel lay sprawled across the bed, _their bed,_ naked and writhing, hard cock being swallowed by _“Ruby!”_ Dean spat. As he reached to pull the ever present Colt from his waistband, long arms wrapped around him from behind and stopped him. Huge hands ripped the Colt from him and tossed it into Dean's open duffel bag out of reach.

“Hello Dean” Sam purred as he squeezed tighter and pushed the struggling body of his brother across the threshold, closing the door behind them. “Looks good doesn't he?” Sam asked as he licked around Dean's ear, hand creeping down to grope Dean's limp cock as Sam ground his own aching erection into Dean's ass. Dean fought against the hold Sam had on him as Ruby glanced over at them, lips stretched obscenely wide around Castiel's cock as she worked the fallen angel. Her eyes shone black as she pulled off Castiel with a wet plop. Castiel moaned at the loss of the hot, wet mouth around him and opened his eyes to see what had caused the demon to stop.

Dean moaned “Nooooo” under his breath, all the fight leaving him so suddenly he was left weak in Sam's constricting hold. Castiel turned his head at the broken sound that escaped his lover. Aberrant, black eyes bored into disbelieving, green ones.

“Black suits him, don't you think?” Ruby smirked as she climbed off the bed and sauntered over to the brothers. Leaning up she placed a kiss on Sam's open mouth, sharing Castiel's taste with the yellow eyed demon.

“I've been waiting for the right time to turn him,” Sam said quietly as he pushed Ruby away, motioning for her to leave the room. The sound of the slamming door signalled her displeasure at being dismissed so easily.

“As soon as Bobby told me Cas'd fallen, to be with _you_ big brother, I knew that I had to make him one of mine. Have him join my army of demons; become my second in command even.” Sam said as Castiel sat up and moved around to swing his legs off the the bed. “Cas?” Dean said, voice quiet, desperately needing this to be another nightmare, knowing in his heart that it wasn't.

Sam pushed Dean towards the bed, “Go and finish him off Dean, show me how much you love that angel and his cock.” Dean was broken, unable to move so Sam shoved him hard causing his brother to crash down onto his knees. The jarring did nothing to release Dean from his stupor so Sam grabbed his arm and dragged the seemingly comatose man between Castiel's spread legs. Castiel took hold of Dean's head and pushed his face down, “Open” Castiel commanded as he held his cock to Dean's closed mouth.

Sam grinned as Castiel gripped hold of Dean's jaw and forced the unwilling mouth open, “That's it Dean,” Castiel murmured as he fed his cock in between the slack lips of the man between his knees, pushing in until Dean started gagging, finally moving as he tried pull off, to breathe around the cock lodged in the back of his throat. Castiel just held on tight as Dean tried to pull away. Sam dropped to his knees behind his brother, trapping Dean in place, ensuring he finished the job. The feel of Sam behind him released Dean from his daze and he yanked his head out of Castiel's grip and started to struggle again, pushing back against his brother as he tried to break free. The feel of something hard in between his shoulder blades made him pause, filling him with dread. Sam didn't wear a necklace, had always said they were too girly, even for him.

Sam easily contained Dean's struggles, as Castiel's harsh grip on Dean's arms prevented the hunter from moving forwards. “Feel my new pendant do you?” Sam said silkily in Dean's ear as he thrust his groin into Dean's backside. “Think it suits me?” he asked as he moved back slightly so he could lift the pendant out from under his t-shirt and place it over Dean's shoulder. Dean gasped as he looked over at he pendant, so like the one he wore; the one Castiel had entrusted to his safe keeping. The vial containing Castiel's grace.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Dean cried, “When we were fighting at Bobby's,” Sam grinned evilly, “I already had a copy made, waiting for such a moment. I just pulled yours off” he indicated the vial he was wearing, “and dropped that one for you to find,” Sam pointed to the chain around Dean's neck. “And there you have it,” he smirked, “one fallen angel, beautiful in his sinfulness, ready to do my bidding.”

Dean remembered his panic and despair. The frantic search that had followed the fight, when Sam had been rendered senseless for those precious minutes, allowing him and Castiel to escape.

“Now you need to finish your precious angel off, lover boy,” Sam sneered in Dean's ear as he pushed his brother closer to the hard leaking cock in front of them. Castiel gripped Dean's head and pushed back between Dean's slack lips, fucking hard and deep into depths of his mouth, not caring about his Dean's comfort. “That's it Cas,” Sam encouraged, “he likes it rough. Don't you Dean?” he asked as Dean gagged again on the hard erection pushing down his throat. Castiel thrust steadily. His moans growing louder the closer his climax came. He pushed in a couple more times and tensed up, holding Dean's head tight against his groin as he came, pulsing long and steady as he shouted his release to the ceiling.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The days were blending into one another. Dean had no reason to worry about what day it was any more; not when each was just a variation on a theme. He watched Sam and Castiel play with some poor bastard, all the while knowing it wouldn't be long before the pained cries or pleading screams would awaken their arousal, and they would turn their attention to him. To making _him_ scream in pain; to beg for them to stop as they took turns pounding into him. Dean preferred those days to ones where they couldn't decide who would go first, so ended up taking him together. Those days left Dean a broken and bleeding mess on the rumpled bed sheets, crying quietly as his torturers watched.

Sometimes, Dean thought he'd see a glimpse of _his_ Castiel lurking around the edges of demon Castiel in a soft touch or a soothing word, only to have that hope crushed in the harshest of way. Sam would just laugh then. Cruel and cold as he told Dean that he owned Castiel body and soul.

Dean asked Sam, once, why he was doing this. Why he had turned Castiel evil. _Because you were mine Dean. You still are, but seeing that fucking angel touch you, and try to take you away from me was unbearable. And I knew that turning him evil would hurt you in ways I could only dream of,_ Sam had answered, before forcing his brother onto his knees once more.

The answer cut into Dean, the wound festering deep inside causing him to withdraw into himself even more: tortured eyes looking out on a hopeless situation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean slowly shuffled across the room towards the bathroom, trying not to wake the sleeping demons sprawled out on the bed. The ache between his legs matched the ache in his heart. Each time they thrust into his body, he broke a little more, until all that was left was the shell looking back at him from the mirror. _I have to get away_ he thought despondently, shuddering as he recalled the pain from his first failed escape attempt. Now there was a demon guard that was always outside the door and Dean was tied to the bed when left alone.

Demons he thought to his reflection, there was nothing left of the two men he had loved more than anything in this life. _His brother and his angel._ One he was supposed to look out for; one who was supposed to watch over him. Dean stepped under the heated water of the shower, scrubbing hard with the wash cloth as he tried to erase the marks they had left on his body. Whilst the soap and water washed away the dried come and blood, nothing could erase the marks they were burning into his soul.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They were starting to get careless with the ropes, Dean thought. A spark of hope was fanned inside, a plan for his escape forming. They would leave him alone, sometimes for hours at a stretch, especially when they went off and did Lucifer knows what and didn't want to drag his gaunt, broken body along. He was always restrained in some way when they left him. Tied to the bed frame was a favourite. Castiel would laugh as he tied the knots in the ropes, saying it was saving time for later, when they returned from where ever, eager to start on Dean again.

But those knots weren't as tight as they once were. Dean twisted his wrist, feeling the slick of his blood soaking into the rope and running down his arm; the pain not registering. It was nothing compared to the horrors he endured every day. The slight give in the rope made him pause, taking a deep breath he rotated his wrist again. _Yes_ he thought at the definite slackening of the bindings. Working quickly, but steadily, Dean gradually eased the rope up over his hand, the blood flowing freely now, as he pulled his other arm free. Ignoring his bleeding arms, Dean pushed himself up and looked around the room, quickly spotting what he needed. Moving off the bed quietly, not wanting to alert the guard outside the door, he made his way to the bags, desperately pulling from his duffel bag remnants of his previous life in a frantic search to find what he wanted. Dean's bags had been left untouched in full view; a galling reminder to Dean of his hopeless situation, Sam had laughingly explained.

Dean tensed as the door opened behind him; spinning around as Sam and Castiel sauntered in yellow and black eyes flashing in the street lights. They both stopped at the sight of the empty, blood stained bed.

Sam whirled around, stilling as he saw his brother standing over the bags. Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat, a desolate expression playing across his once beautiful features.

“Put the Colt down Dean” Sam said his voice a low growl, promising retribution for Dean's transgression. As Castiel edged around the larger demon towards Dean, Dean stepped back; staying out of reach, Colt pointed at the two demons.

“You only have one bullet Dean” Castiel said, his amazement at Dean's obvious foolishness evident in his voice.

Dean laughed; a soft empty sound. “I only need one” he said, voice as hollow as his laugh. He stared forlornly into the black and yellow eyes of those he used to love, as the demons advanced on him.

Raising the Colt in steady hands, Dean pulled the trigger.

 _  
**FIN**   
_


End file.
